Perfection
by jaLEXIam
Summary: Rosalie/Emmett. Rosalie leads the ideal life until a trumatic occurance causes her life to change forever. She struggles to find her fairytale once more. Follows Rosalie from human to vampire to Emmett. Will contain lemons and a rape scene.
1. Picture Perfect

**Author Note: I am just starting college at Georgia Institute of Technology and my major is in mechanical engineering. This little fact is my excuse for the slow updates in the future. I am writing multiple chapters at a time before I update so that my lovely readers can be busy with something while I am working on Calculus and Physics. **

**This story has been playing in the back of my head for a few weeks and needs to be written. My sincere appreciation goes out to the amazing XxXRoseVixenXxX, who is currently writing a wonderful Esme/Carlisle fiction, for making me commit to a story and stop with all those OneShots. **

**The mature rating is due to the upcoming rape scene and a few lemons that are sure to come when you are dealing with Emmett and Rosalie. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in this story that you recognize from the ****Twilight**** Saga. The story idea and extra characters are mine.**

**Picture Perfect**

I walked quickly through the streets of Rochester, my stilettos clicking with every step. My white organza flowed silkily around my ankles and I rushed to give my father his lunch at the bank. My blonde hair had been rolled up and now lay in tight waves to my shoulder. At first my mom's order to wear my nice organza and roll my hair had seemed peculiar; however, the more eyes that followed me to the bank, the happier I became that I had taken the time to fulfill her request.

I walked into the bank filled with men of respectable social caliber staring at me; I let out a breezy laugh. Whoever said beauty wasn't everything was surely an imbecile. I could have any man in this bank that I wanted to create a family like Vera's and only because I was gorgeous. One brave man, a balding and older Mr. Jenkins, introduced himself with a bow in front of me; I walked away without a remark. Beauty is _everything_.

I crossed the marble foyer to my father's office. The imposing wooden door was open so I walked in. My father was behind his desk, but he was not alone. I hesitated for a moment, "I haven't interrupted anything, father?"

A smile broke across my father's round face and he chuckled. "No. I was just talking about my beautiful daughter, wasn't I Mr. King?"

I looked at the other man in the room and was shocked not to find my father's fat boss, Mr. King; but, a young and very attractive man only a few years older than myself. His hair was lighter than my own was kept neatly. His blue eyes were like the afternoon sky, a pale blue that was endless. He stood and crossed to the door then he bowed and kissed my hand. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. Your father speaks very highly of you; however, your exquisiteness he failed to adequately describe."

"Thank you, Mr. King." I curtsied. I took the opportunity to appreciate the stature of the young, Mr. King. He was taller than me and his shoulders were wide with muscle. My gaze lingered a moment too long, but was broken when he spoke again.

"A woman as pretty as you may call me Royce," he smiled.

"Thank you, Royce," I amended.

"Oh! I brought your lunch, father."I passed by Royce, shoving him off a little like I had the balding guy earlier, and crossed to my father's desk. "Mother said dinner will be served at six and we are dinning with the Brown's tonight."

I kissed his dimpled cheek and rushed out of the bank to return to home. I wanted to visit with Vera and I had very little time until I had to dress for the dinner tonight. I moved swiftly through the familiar streets of Rochester. Vera's new home was much smaller than my own, as she had married a carpenter. I crossed the small front lawn and knocked at the door. I heard the wail of a young baby and felt a peculiar emotion pass through me.

Vera answered the door, her curly hair acted as a messy halo around her porcelain doll featured face. Her face broke out into a smile as she realized that I had come for a visit. "Rose! What a surprise. Come in, I was just putting Richie down for a nap."

The strange emotion stirred in my heart with the mention of her newly born child, I shook it away and walked into the humble home. I followed Vera's quick walk up the narrow stairs into a brightly painted room. The wailing babe lay in the crib, his thick black curls mirroring his mother's as she reached into the basinet to pick him up.

For a moment the small house and the screaming baby felt justified. I knew that I would hate Vera if she lived in a house matching mine in grandeur with the beautiful boy lying in a large crib made of sturdy oak. Part of me still disliked Vera and her Richie even if her house was a quarter the size of my own. I never once felt this disdain for my very closest friend; it made me extremely uncomfortable.

Vera rocked the baby back and forth and the cries began to die down. She hummed gently and old tune my mother once sang to me. The baby closed his eyes and she rocked him a few more times before placing him in the basinet. She led me out of the room and quietly shut the door behind us. "How about some tea?" she whispered to me.

"Actually, I ought to be headed home. I am having dinner with Roy Brown," I lied. I hated this new emotion I felt in the pit of my stomach; I had to get away from it.

Vera frowned with disappointment; but, quickly smiled, "The Roy Brown the jeweler with emerald eyes of his own?"

"Yes!" her excitement was contagious and I could not help the smile that crossed my face as we walked down the stairs. She walked with me to the road and we chatted about the possibility of Mrs. Rosalie Brown. I waved to her as I began the quick walk home, a smile on my face and the afternoon's jealousy erased.

I got home with two hours to spare before the dinner. My mother was busy herding my brothers to bathe that she missed my entrance. It was very rare that I pass unnoticed; however, I was so busy with my thoughts of what Charles Brown would look like that I didn't mind being overlooked just this once.

I walked into my room picturing a little boy with rosy cheeks running in my vast snowy yard. His blonde hair parted to the side and neatly kept and his eyes the violet color of my own. I sighed with want and opened my wardrobe. I found my favorite dress and placed it on my bed. As I began to take off the silky organza I wore, a bouquet of roses caught my eye.

I lifted them to face, the fresh and faintly sweet smell filled my nose as the soft petals caressed my face. I cradled them in my arms and grabbed the note in between the stems of the freshly cut flowers. I set the flowers on my writing desk and read the letter.

_Rosalie,_

_I hope you remember me; because, I cannot forget your beautiful presence. I hope to see you again._

_Royce King II_

I smiled to myself recalling the handsome man at the bank. I set the note next to my roses on the desk. I slipped into the blue halter neck evening gown made of satin and began to prepare for the night's dinner. I rolled my hair and painted my face, lightly, while thinking of Royce. He was my prince and I was ready to become his princess.

A knock echoed through the house as I began to work on the finishing touches in preparation for the dinner. I could hear our butler welcoming our dinner guests. My father and mother started down the stairs as a cue for my brothers and me to follow. My brothers in their finest suits looked very handsome and considerably less embarrassing as they did earlier with mud and grass staining their knickers.

I entered the dining room last and sat next to the youngest of our three dinner guests. However, where Roy Brown should have been seated with his parents next to his side was Royce King II and his beautiful mother and unattractive father. I smiled as if this were no surprise to me and greeted them warmly to my home.

The dinner went along without any problems. I spoke with Royce and found him more charming than anyone I've ever met. Unlike his father, he spoke of more than banking. He told me of his visits to Paris and his love for the French Operas. As he spoke, I found myself laughing easily and enjoying his company. After dinner, we escaped to the yard for a walk under the moonlight. We walked through the gardens as he described the streets of Paris and the beauty of the city. He suddenly stopped talking and looked at me.

"The stars make you glow in the night. All I can see is your beauty and your eyes, like violets, are dancing." He leaned toward me. The magical night made everything seem perfect, so I let him kiss me. His warm lips were soft against mine, but the kiss swept me off my feet. I felt the kiss rushing through my veins. I pulled away, terrified of being seen, "Mother will be worried, we should return to the house."

He held out his elbow and I wrapped my arm around it as we walked up to the house. As we approached my home, he released my arm and opened the door for me. Our parents sat in the great room discussing bank matters and my brothers were stomping around somewhere upstairs. As we entered, the room hushed.

"Well, it is getting late," Mrs. King announced. Mr. King rose and held out a hand to her, she accepted the help and stood next to him. Mrs. King nodded to my mother, "This has been simply wonderful, thank you Mrs. Hale for your hospitality. I assure you we will visit again."

"Thank you, Mrs. King. I hope you get home safe," my mother smiled.

"I had a wonderful night, Rosalie." Royce whispered into my ear, causing goose bumps to cover my skin. Without another word, the King's were gone and the night was over. I bathed and went to bed with visions of fair-haired children playing in the vast King estate.

--

During the next few weeks, I felt like I was dreaming. I woke up to the delivery of a bouquet of roses and violets each day. He spent his days at work and I spent my afternoons buying new dresses for the evening party or dance that Royce would sweep me away to. He always held me on his arm as if afraid to let go of me. We lived in the adoration of our peers. My handsome prince gave me everything I had ever dreamed of, yet I wanted more.

After six weeks of this easy lifestyle, Royce took me to a ball on the outskirts of Rochester. We were announced as we entered the grand stairwell of the Chaplain's mansion. The marble staircase looked much like the Brown's, the Kelley's, and the Hall's and the ironwork resembled that in my home. The nightly parties blurred in my head as I tried to picture what I wore last time I attended a Chaplain Ball. I decided that I had worn a shade of green at the last party and that my current red gown was acceptable.

Everyone stared in awe at Royce and me as we floated down the stairs. Royce stopped our process down the stairs halfway down. I hesitated and stopped confused on the middle stair. I smiled as if I knew what was happening. Royce bent down on one knee before me and pulled a small box out of his jacket.

"I am crazy about you, Rose. Marry me, please?" The air stood still as if everyone in the room stopped breathing in an effort to be silent. He opened the small box and the largest diamond I had ever seen was set in a gold ring. I felt myself draw in a quick gasp of air. I could feel the room spinning. _He proposed to me!_

"I will!" I almost yelled. Royce placed the ring on my third finger and I could feel my left hand drop with the weight. He grabbed me a carried me down the stairs into the chorus of cheers and thunder of applause. It was in this moment that I knew my life was perfect.


	2. Simply Perfect

**Author Note: I hope that everyone is enjoying Rosalie's story as much as I am having fun writing it. **

**If you are in the mood for a good Emse/Carlisle fiction in your near future, XxXRoseVixenXxX has a lovely piece called ****My Rock, My Sanctuary****. **

**Disclaimer: I owe Stephanie Meyer for the wonderful characters involved in this story.**

**Simply Perfect**

I sat in the King's sitting room sipping tea and listening to my mother drone on and on with various wedding plans with Mrs. King. For five days I had been trapped in this overly stuffed chair listening to them discuss _my_ wedding. One would think the bride would have more say in her wedding plans. One would be wrong. I had no say in _my_ wedding. If I suffered one moment longer with these two women carrying on like they were marrying each other, I would surely burst.

The maid entered the room and cleared her throat to capture the attention of the two muttering women. I pondered for a moment what it would be like to have to clear your throat to mark that you entered a room. I could not fathom walking into a room without being noticed, so I gave up and stared once again out on the lush lawns of the King estate. I was paying no attention to the maid, so I was caught off guard when Vera entered the room.

I felt a genuine smile break across my face as I realized that she was my way out of this endless afternoon of sitting and staring. "Vera! How wonderful to see you. Where is Richard?"

Vera smiled, a little taken aback by my enthusiasm, "Richie is with my mother. We are starting our dress shopping today, remember?"

"Of course, I remember. Let us not delay; there are hundreds of designers ready to make my wedding gown," I crossed the room and wrapped my arm in hers and lead her out of the room and to the Bugatti Type 43A that Royce bought for me. He taught me how to drive briefly on the way to the Murphy's Ball. I've been driving it out on my afternoon trips to evening gown shops and to visit with Vera. I found the clutch difficult to manage at first; however, after driving it around for a while I could drive without much thought. If people stared when I walked down the street, they gawked when I drove. It was not customary for a woman to drive. I liked the gawking more than the stares. The shocked expression on the men's faces made me feel more alive. Thusly, I drove whenever I could.

Vera and I chatted as I drove into town. I no longer felt a pang of jealousy when she spoke of her son and her husband. In place of the odd tension of jealousy was a warm feeling that I was well acquainted with; pity. No matter how much she accomplished in her life, Vera would never be remembered like I would, nor would she ever have the most beautiful family and home that I would. She would never be as good as me and I felt bad for her; because, she thought she owned the world with her little boy and her husband.

She told me about her husband, saying he was sweet and caring because he would speak with her about anything and everything. I scoffed; she thought caring about each other meant talking to and sacrificing for each other. I knew the true meaning; pretty cars, new necklaces, and fancy dresses. Care paired with money, not with actions and words. I felt like I should have told Vera such; however, her illusion of happiness seemed so important to her that I would feel terrible if I shattered it. I let her continue her ramblings until we stopped on the curb in front of the first dress boutique.

I stepped into the store and nearly walked out due to the small, cramped room. I needed a variety and some space in order for me to properly shop for a new dress. Vera stopped me from leaving as she looked eagerly at the dresses as if she had never seen anything as beautiful as the simple red satin gown. Watching her stare in wonder at the plain dresses in front of her caused me to bitterly hate her husband. Even with the pitiful excuse for a salary that a carpenter makes, he could afford to give her a nice gown.

"Vera, I don't like anything here. Can we walk up to Paula Campbell's store?" I walked out of the store and a few moments later, I could hear Vera next to me.

"You really didn't like anything at the last place? There were some beautiful dresses," Vera smiled wistfully.

I shrugged off her comment as we turned into the Mrs. Campbell's beautiful store. The marble floors echoed my footfalls as I entered; on one wall a giant mirror reflected my dark blue dress and the other was lined with different dress patterns and the thousands of fabric choices for your dress. Mrs. Campbell had provided me with many of my ball gowns over the length of my courtship with Royce. Her quality was unmatched and her dresses were awe-inspiring when worn, at least on me. One of her many seamstresses rushed into the gallery to greet me. "Welcome, Ms. Hale. Can I help you today?"

"I would like to talk to Paula." I threw her a threatening smile, a nice way of saying _if you don't do what I say, you will be fired._ She rushed off like a dog with her tail tucked between her legs and moments later Paula walked out flowing in one of her own creations. She smiled widely when she saw me.

"Ms. Hale, you keep scaring off my help. I am happy to see you here. Wedding gown shopping, I presume?" Paula spoke with a soothing, yet firm, voice.

"Yes. I need a slender and tight fitting gown that will stun and quiet the cathedral when I walk down the aisle." I responded. Paula nodded and quickly walked off, beckoning me to follow her. She smiled as she shifted a few patterns and dug deeper into her pile of designs. She muttered to herself and looked me up and down a few times before letting out an approving sound. She showed me the drawing and smiled with accomplishment as I studied the picture. The dress was slender and long as I asked, but had a scandalous cut in the mid section that I had only seen in a few silent movies. The back was cut into the v of the halter neck style. I looked up at her dazzling smile, "This is based off the Hollywood style, is it not?"

"It is. It fits snuggly and no bra is needed, just as Hollywood demands. It is the perfect dress for a Mrs. Rosalie King."

"I love it." I stated. Paula had begun to pull out fabrics, when Vera approached my side. She nudged me and nodded her head towards the glass wall. I walked with her through the rows of dress patterns before she had decided we were out of hearing range. She whispered to me, "Rose, I think that dress might be a little… revealing. I know it is your choice, but I don't really think it is appropriate for your wedding."

I laughed at my silly friend, "Vera, this dress is perfect." Vera sighed and let me walk off to pick my fabric. Her concerned annoyed me, why did she have to be so jealous of my wedding that she would try to make me get an ugly, cheap dress. I hid my anger as I began to fish through white satin. The satin came in different thicknesses, while most people preferred the thick and smooth feel; I always preferred my satin thin and almost see through, like a thin midst of fabric hugging me softly. I finally found the perfect while satin and handed it to Paula. She already had my measurements memorized, so I paid for the dress and returned to Vera.

Vera looked a little upset, but she spoke enthusiastically about the dress she was… sewing for my wedding. If she wasn't my closest friend, I might not have let her into the cathedral for my wedding, a homemade dress? How embarrassing. I altered the conversation to the extravagant wedding plans that the mother's had made. By the time we were in the car headed towards Vera's home, we were discussing the flowers I would have chosen in contrast to the mother's choices. I dropped Vera off at her home and headed to my own.

I made it into my drive way when the engine cut off with a huff of exhaustion. I twisted the key, and yet again, there was no luck. "Bloody piece of technology," I murmured as I walked inside.

Royce was waiting for me in the great room, "Let's go to Swing Dance with Duke Ellington tonight." He grabbed my arm and whisked me away for another perfect night.


	3. Perfectly Broken

**Author Note: I apologize for taking so long to update; I left my brainstorming notebook at home when I moved into the dorms and, to be completely honest, I am dreading this chapter. I feel like this is one of the most difficult chapters to write because I had to juggle Rosalie's story as quoted by Stephanie Meyer with the Rosalie telling the story. Anyways, I ask you to enjoy this chapter and be ready for the next one! **

**Disclaimer: Much of this chapter has been taken from ****Eclipse**** and the characters have been taken from Mrs. Meyer. **

**Perfectly Broken**

I loved visiting with Vera and her family. I watched her with her son dreaming about mine to come. His curly hair began to shift into healthy blonde locks that feel sloppily over blue eyes. When his laugh rang through the room, the jealousy that once consumed me was replaced with a hopeful prayer that my child would have a brighter laugh that would dance throughout my home. I could feel the afternoon growing old and knew I should head home.

"Rose, it is beginning to get late. Want I should make up the guest bed for you?" Vera offered.

"Thank you, Vera; but, I really ought to go home. You know how my father will worry, if I don't come home tonight. The police will be notified."

Vera smiled at me kindly with understanding and walked with me to the door. Her husband walked with her, his arm draped comfortably around her waist. Not showing Vela off to the world like Royce did with me, but like he just wanted to hold her and be with her.

I felt cold and jealous, once more.

Vera smiled, wishing me a safe arrival home. Her baby boy smiled at me giggling at some private joke. I smiled and began to walk towards the road. From the corner of my eye, I watched as her husband kissed her cheek. The kiss disturbed me. There was a kindness and a care in the kiss that was never in the kisses Royce shared with me.

For the second time that night, the monster of jealousy visited me.

Why weren't our kisses like that? Were they supposed to be so _sweet_? No. I could not think about this, I had my prince. He was gorgeous, rich, and could provide me with the family and life I wanted; I would become a queen with him. Vera should be jealous of me. Not the other way around.

With my head held high once more, I began to walk down the street. The lamps were lit and I worried I might have left a little late from Vera's home. My father and mother would be worried. I smiled to myself as my thoughts shifted to my wedding only a week away. I shivered a bit and hoped that the weather would warm up in the next seven days. I would be ruined if the wedding had to be indoors, the guests would not fit within the walls of any building. I could not cut down the guest list. I was going to become Princess Rosalie, everyone needed to see this become a reality.

Laughter, drunken laughter pulled me out of my reverie. I saw the cluster under the broken streetlamp. I sighed; I should have called my father. This group of men would cause me to prolong the trip home. It would be scandalous and stupid to continue down the street, one attractive woman versus such a large group of men was dangerous.

"Rose!" I heard Royce call my name from the middle of the group of men. I noticed that the group of men were all well-dressed and felt a slight chill run down my spine. I shrugged it off; my Royce would never hurt me.

"Here's my Rose! You're late. We're cold, you've kept us waiting." He shouted as I walked towards him. I could feel that shiver once more and decided that the wedding might need to be indoors. Royce laughed; a stupid drunken laugh that roared through my mind. I knew then why he didn't like champagne at the parties we went too, he preferred the stronger burn of whiskey. He was drunk in the road with a group of drunken men and I was in danger and weak against them.

I recognized most of the men from our nightly outings; however, there was one man that was new to the group. I vaguely remembered Royce saying that a man was visiting him. That was why I went to Vela's tonight and not to another party. The man had dark hair and suntanned skin and a deep voice that shook me to the vein as I tried to recall his name. Maybe I could smooth this over with a few words. I tried to speak, but my voice fell and cracked.

"What did I tell you, John, isn't she lovelier than all your Georgia peaches?" Royce sounded boastful. For a moment, I thought everything was going to be fine. Then, I looked at John. He was staring at me as a man does a horse for sale. He cracked a smile that turned my skin into bumps and raised the hair on my arms and the back of my neck.

"It's hard to tell. She's all covered up." Royce and the group laughed. I tried to run, but my legs were paralyzed with fear. Royce walked up to me and I prayed that he might help me. I clung to the hope that blew through me as he stepped closer. He wouldn't hurt his wife, not here and not with witnesses. He wouldn't hurt me.

Royce reached out, as if to embrace me and I felt safer. His hand touched my shoulder and I was going to be safe. The jacket in which he bought me hugged me like a secret. He pulled his arm back and the jacket ripped off of me, the brass buttons falling into the street. I followed one into a puddle and felt my hope drain. I was empty. There was nothing to save me now.

The cool air kissed my skin and Royce spoke. "Show him what you look like, Rose!" His laughed echoed in the road. I wondered why no one came to help me. Surely, someone would have noticed me. Royce smiled at the group, the smile that was previously worn by John, and tore at my hat ripping pins from the roots of my hair. I cried out and they smiled. They enjoyed my pain and circled around Royce and I; I was trapped.

Royce laid on me, pinning me into the ground. My head rapped the cement and throbbing filled my ears as my sight blurred from the hit. I wanted to close my eyes like a child does to scare off the monster in the closet; however, my eyes were starring into the glazed over eyes of my fiancée and his company. I wanted to cry and to scream out, but all I could do was stare helplessly into their eyes.

I could feel their hands on me, all of them were touching me. The clothes were being torn off my body with rough hands. I felt their thick fingers probing every inch of my body. I screamed out a few times, but they only laughed and continued their invasion. I felt my wrists beginning to bleed due to the amount of pressure Royce used to pin me down.

The cold air attacked my skin as the last shards of my dress blew off with the breeze. "She is mine," Royce growled. The group nodded in unison and moved away from me. The hands were off of me. I was free from the thick and harmful fingers; however, I was still pinned on the street under the crushing weight of my future husband.

He breathed heavily, the warm breathe covering my face. The smell of whiskey overwhelmed me as he shifted. At first, I was confused as to what his intentions were. The pressure on my wrists was released, but his weight still pinned me into the road, I could feel the bricks leaving their marks in my back. I looked at the broken streetlight as I comprehended his intentions. I prayed for this to stop.

Then I was no longer there. The pain was gone. I saw him on top of my body, I witnessed the entire scene. However, I did not suffer nor did I feel anything anymore. I heard my voice scream out when he entered roughly and saw the tears pour down my eyes as he continued his assault. The eyes that watched, hungry for their turn, made me angry. The only emotion I felt was anger.

If I were stronger, if I survived, I would kill them.

The road turned red with my anger and I thought of their murders, each one evenly fitting into their roll of the crime. Each man took his turn, my screams stopped and the tears disappeared, the last man did not enjoy one scream, not even when he pulled out my hair or ripped my skin with his claws. The men left me on the road joking and feeling pride in their actions. They thought me dead teasing and joking with Royce.

"You're going to need a new wife." I could hear the gruff drawl of John's southern accent.

"I think I'll need to learn patience first." Royce laughed.

In the street, I laid ready to die. I could feel my blood draining into the street. The warm liquid stopped me from freezing at first. However, after a few moments or maybe hours, snow began to pile up around sticking to the street, covering the blood and the evidence of the night's horrors. The snow even began to cover me.

Suddenly hands began probing me; these were gentle and carefully inspecting with knowledge. I opened my eyes slightly; the face that looked upon mine was gorgeous. I was upset immediately; I really didn't like the Cullen family, the men were more beautiful than me and the woman made me look like plain and ordinary. He picked me up and the agony rushed through my veins.

I felt the world melt away, but the pain didn't stop. Surely, I hadn't gone to Hell. I never did anything evil to another person, I was a good person. Good people didn't go to Hell. However, Heaven was supposed to be paradise. I would not carry the wounds of this world into Heaven.

So, why did I feel like I was in Hell?


	4. Becoming Perfect

**Author Note: Once again, I apologize for the long break between chapters. This is another chapter that I have been putting off. I feel like intense pain as I am supposed to describe in the changing of Rosalie should alter her personality; however, we all know that it does not. She continues to be excruciatingly narcissistic. **

**I would like to express my gratitude for all of those reviewers out there. I enjoy the feedback, both good and bad, as it lets me know someone is reading. I also appreciate the story and author alerts additions, it makes me excited that people are not only reading, but also, waiting for more.**

**Disclaimer: Much of this chapter is loosely based on ****Eclipse**** and ****Breaking Dawn****. The characters that you know and love so much are property Stephanie Meyer. There is a slight reference to the inner works of Dante and his novel, ****Inferno****.**

**Becoming Perfect**

I was definitely in Hell.

Not the Hell that the babbling and slightly balding preacher at church had described or the ancient novel my tutor once made me read about a man wondering throughout the different levels of Hell. No, Hell was beautiful and brighter than anywhere I'd ever seen. The walls were basically glowing with the bright white paint and the furniture looked majestic as if it had come straight from the castles of England and Spain. To my surprise, there was an angel next to me, holding my hand and whispering terrifying legends as if telling an infant a bedtime story. I never pictured the fallen angels to be so beautiful. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought I'd seen this particular angel, or rather demon, before. It was fitting that my Hell would be so beautiful that I felt self-conscious.

The pain which accompanied me in this Hell was consuming. I felt the fires that the preacher would rage and yell about; however, unlike his descriptions or the depictions of the novel, the fire burnt from within my skin. The fires spread from many places engulfing every part of me as they travelled to my heart. I thrashed about screaming. With my scream came an apology from the beautiful creature next to me. I pleaded with him to end this pain. I even begged to be killed, without much regard to the fact that I was already dead.

Even as I shrieked out, the pain continued to build. I could feel the fire eating me alive as the flames licked and bit at my veins. I screeched once more, the angel apologized, and I gave myself into the pain. The fallen creature began to speak; his voice was musical when he spoke sentences. I remembered this melodic voice, this was the doctor, Dr. Cullen. I couldn't be dead if he were with me.

Suddenly, I realized that he had brought me here to hurt me and to experiment with me. I could feel the fear mixing with the pain; I would feel pain until I died. I yelled out and cursed him, begging for him to leave me alone. He spun this tale of the pain ending and being able to live forever. His voiced deepened in warning of a blood lust that would haunt my every hour for eternity. He told me that I was just changing and it would end soon and apologized for doing this to me.

The pain was no longer excruciating. It still throbbed and burned inside of me; but, I could pay attention to the conversations being held between the Cullen's. The brother, Edward, was angry. He spoke about me as if I were merely the lowly commoner and a burden in his life. He angered me.

Carlisle defended me, suggesting that I could not just be left out to die. His wife agreed and I felt a slight wave of appreciation for the doctor and his wife.

"People die all the time." Edward's voice was dark, filled with hate. I felt my own body go rigid with an urge to fight held back only by the flames. He complained about my fame saying it was too recognizable and growled when he spoke of Royce. I felt a wave of relief flood through me when I realized that they knew Royce was guilty.

With this relief was a dulling of the pain, my fingertips seemed to be cool. The fire was dying. I began to realize the weight of the doctor's words; I would drink the blood of humans or animals. The thought of savagely killing in order to live repulsed me; yet, my throat burned with desire. As the pain ebbed like the migraines my mother used to whine about, I knew that I would stay with the Cullen's. I could not be alone.

The pain ended. The doctor had said I'd become superhuman; but, he didn't say how beautiful I would turn. My body looked cut from the finest white marble. My eyes were crimson, unnerving yet awe-inspiring. I'd been jealous of the Cullen's before and I had now the beauty that had upset me.

I was perfect.


End file.
